


NOT AGAIN

by whimsicalclusterfuck



Category: Aphmau (MyStreet) - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Borderline Personality Disorder, Headcanon, Minecraft MyStreet - Aphmau, Nana Ashida (Mystreet), Self-Harm, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29037948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalclusterfuck/pseuds/whimsicalclusterfuck
Summary: HUGE TRIGGER WARNING!!! read the tags. this is gonna be dark. if i get bpd wrong,,, correct me! i do not have it, but i do headcanon nana as having it.basically she has one of her depressive episodes, and it's BAD.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	NOT AGAIN

Nana didn't know how she could keep up her act so often when she felt this fucking miserable. How could she ever hide herself when she was feeling this low?

She's had these episodes before, but they've never been as bad as they are now. The worst she had was when she was relapsing from her self-harm back in college. She remembered avoiding anything and anyone; being ashamed of what she did and feeling like everyone on campus was looking at her scar-laced arms. She felt cold. She felt anxious. She felt terrified. Combine that with her disorder, and it was hell.

But this? This one was worse than any she's ever experienced. She was curled up on the cold, hard bathroom floor, clutching her arms and legs to her torso. She hyperventilated, trying her hardest to not drown herself in her own tears. How long has she been here? Everything felt so blurry and hazy, and her wrists were feeling like fire. She shuddered even more, biting her lip. She moved her head to look at her wrists again, her vision filling with red. What made her wanna do this? She thought that part of her life was done, and yet...

She felt a sharp flash of pain course through her body, making her hiccup again. She couldn't stay like this forever, no matter how shitty she felt. Slowly, she tried to force herself to stand up. She used her right arm to propel herself upwards. Bad idea, as she almost immediately fell down even harder. Another sob escaped from her as she clutched her stomach, noticing how much worse it felt. It's been bubbling the entire time, but it was noticeably worse now.

"I-Irene...!" she weakly murmured, a hiccup stopping her sentence. She breathed heavier, feeling her back start to hurt from being in this position for so long. She dropped her wrists to the floor again, not caring how bloody the floor got. She attempted to sit up this time, managing to kneel against the bathtub. Her fur stood up from her tail touching the cold floor for the first time in hours. She shuddered yet again, biting her lip and wincing. She let out a short sigh, trying to get her hands to stop shaking.

She reluctantly looked down at her wrists, seeing how bad the damage was.

Jeez...it was like she herself was turning a bright red. She barely even saw her skin anymore under all the blood that was dripping down her arms. She got even more tears in her eyes, feeling her chest ache. Why this? She hasn't harmed herself in ten years; last month actually marked ten years since she stopped. Why did she decide to do this? Everything was going so well and then she...

...and then she felt rejected by Zane. Rejection: one of her biggest triggers. She could usually play it off for laughs and hide her episode back in highschool, college, and back when they were in the old street, but....this was different. This was Zane. This wasn't some guy she threw herself onto for validation. This was someone she revealed her secrets to like it was nothing. And he just....said he wasn't...ready.

Granted, she was being really selfish, but she literally couldn't help when her BPD acted up. She could take her pills, which she did, but when stuff like this happens....she couldn't do anything about it. She could find ways to calm herself down a bit, but that rarely worked because she was naturally impatient, and therapy scared her. The highs are dangerously high, and the lows are...even worse, for her at least. The worst part is, she was going to be completely fine in probably a few hours, since that's how long most of her low episodes last, and...

Before she could finish that thought, she felt her throat start to burn. Instinctively, she managed to stand up and run towards the toilet, almost falling on her way there.

She swore she blacked out for a few seconds. When she opened her eyes again, she didn't even have to look in the toilet seat to know what happened. She hyperventilated, trying to maintain her balance. Irene, why did this have to happen her? Even after Travis gave her a genuine pep talk to try and calm her down. Fortunately, she's been pretending for this long, she was a master at it, but...she was gonna have to spend hours in here cleaning up, and somehow hide her arms.

She shouldn't have overdosed on her pills.

**Author's Note:**

> i.....am so sorry


End file.
